


Play Your Cards Right

by TheMightyFlynn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkwardness, Embarrassment, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 05:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11178141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyFlynn/pseuds/TheMightyFlynn
Summary: How exactly did one go about telling the man sitting next to you at your mother’s lunch table that he was about to expose himself to everyone there?





	Play Your Cards Right

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [wand-in-a-knot](http://wand-in-a-knot.livejournal.com/) 24 hour porn challenge for the prompt: belt.

Sunshine filtered down through the leaves of the huge tree that stood in the orchard of the Burrow. It cast dappled shadows over the long tables that had been set up beneath its branches, creating strange patterns. Both tables were spread with some of Molly Weasley’s best cooking in years, using the homegrown ingredients that always made her food taste better than anyone else’s. The scent of crisp salads, tasty quiches, and bowls of fresh fruit wafted around the small clearing beneath the tree. Percy couldn’t focus on any of it, though. His hands clenched in his lap as his eyes drifted to his right again entirely of their own volition.

Sitting in the middle of one side of one of the long tables, surrounded by his family, their spouses, and a group of the family’s closest friends, Percy blushed. Oliver Wood had been seated next to him mostly, from what he could tell, because they were the only two of the group who had not brought dates with them. It had been fine, at first. Percy and Oliver had always been good friends. Hell, Percy had even had somewhat of a crush on him on and off over the years. They always found something to talk about, even if they usually fell back on their old rivalry: Oliver’s Puddlemere United against Percy’s Pride of Portree. It was safe territory for them; territory that Percy was comfortable with. At the moment, however, Percy was decidedly _un_ comfortable.

His eyes had been sliding over to Oliver’s lap the entire day. Not because he was checking him out at all! He would deny that until his dying day if anyone accused him of such impropriety. No, it was more because, the second Oliver had taken his seat next to Percy, he had noticed that the new belt that Oliver was so proud of – he had shown the Puddlemere United buckle off to anyone who would listen that day – had started to come undone. Not only that, but it was clear that, beneath the buckle, Oliver’s jeans weren’t exactly… Percy blushed even harder at the thought. Oliver Wood was sitting directly next to him with his jeans partially undone; that was the reality of it.

“Oh, Mrs. Weasley, that was absolutely delicious.”

Percy’s eyes widened when Oliver sat back in his seat and stretched. The new belt buckle was only a press-in, meaning that every time Oliver moved, it came out of the hole just a little more. Obviously, he either wasn’t used to buckling such a belt, or he had been in a rush that morning. Leaning back in his seat as he was, it was clear that the belt didn’t have much give in it. To tell the honest truth, Percy was surprised that it had held on as long as it had.

“Now, Oliver, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Molly?”

One of Oliver’s hands slid into Percy’s line-of-sight, rubbing across his belly. Percy immediately averted his gaze, not wanting to be caught seemingly staring _there_. He frowned as he stared down into his lap. How exactly did one go about telling the man sitting next to you at your mother’s lunch table that he was about to expose himself to everyone there?

“Ah, sorry. Old habits and all…”

Oliver shifted in his seat, causing Percy’s eyes to flick back to his belt immediately. He made absolutely certain that it was his eyes only this time, though, as he was already staring quite intently into his lap. The post on the back of the solid buckle that held Puddlemere’s crest was now almost completely out of the hole. Percy could see the top of Oliver’s jeans now much clearer than when they had first taken their seats. The button was completely undone, leading to the zipper being slowly forced downwards by… Percy cleared his throat softly as he squeezed his thighs together and forced his eyes back to the table once again.

“It’s no worry, dear. How about some pudding?”

A slight sense of combined worry and horror at his mother’s offer washed through Percy. Surely Oliver was full? If he ate anything else, Percy was certain that the straining belt would give up the ghost completely and then where would he be?

“I don’t know about that, Molly. I think I may have reached my limit.”

Unable to help himself, Percy slid his gaze over to Oliver just in time to see him lean backwards again, rubbing his belly to demonstrate how full he was. The post of the belt slid a little further out of its hole, causing Percy to hold his breath. Oliver leant forward again, though, before disaster struck.

“Are you sure, dear? You always look like you need a good feeding. I have my blueberry meringue here…”

“Mmm, oh go on then, just a little can’t hurt.”

Percy couldn’t help the quiet groan he gave in response. He had no idea what he had done to deserve this kind of punishment, but he began to silently swear to what- or who- ever was listening that he would make it up to them if they just stopped this torture. He truly did not know what he was going to do if, the next time Oliver leant back in his seat, the belt finally gave way, exposing him to Percy and anyone else who cared to look. His shoulders tensed as the thought that a good friend would let Oliver know flittered through his mind once again. The question he faced was _how_? He jumped when a solid hand landed on his shoulder.

“Alright there, Perce?” Percy turned to see Oliver watching him closely, concern clear on his face. “You look a little ill.”

_Do it! Tell him!_ Percy shook his head as his cheeks flamed. He couldn’t face having to admit that he had been staring at Oliver’s crotch the entire day. Whether that made him a bad friend or not was up for debate, but he was willing to take the chance in the face of embarrassing himself in that way.

“I’m fine.”

Oliver’s eyebrows slid towards his hairline. “Really?”

There was disbelief laced heavily through his tone, causing an unwilling smile to cross Percy’s face. “Yes, really.” Straightening up, he met Oliver’s eyes steadily, on much firmer ground now that Oliver was sitting closer to the table. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

They fell into easy conversation as Oliver slowly ate his meringue. Percy’s attention was only half on what he was saying, though. His mind continued to slip back to thinking of how the post of Oliver’s belt buckle must be straining. Each time the thought occurred to him, he immediately pushed it aside, however. It was… _unseemly_ to be thinking that way about the man he had considered a close friend for most of his life.

Eventually, Percy started to relax a little. He even managed to laugh at a few of the jokes Oliver made, despite them not being all that funny. The strange mix of worry and embarrassment that had been flowing through him when Oliver was sitting back in his seat ebbed away, giving way to a sense of contentment that he hadn’t felt in a long time. That contentment was destroyed, however, when Oliver finished his meringue. Leaning back in his seat again, he groaned.

“Perce, as much as I love your mother and her cooking, I–”

He was interrupted when, with a soft _pop_ , the buckle of his belt finally gave way. Oliver’s jeans had been tight to begin with, but with the addition of the food he had consumed, they had no chance of staying closed now that the belt was no longer keeping them shut. Percy’s eyes widened as the fly of Oliver’s jeans slid open, revealing a stretch of brown hair followed by…

“Oh!” His face burning a bright red when he realised that Oliver had gone commando, Percy shoved back from the table. “Sorry, I–”

With a sharp shake of his head, he stood and marched away from the tables, ignoring both his mother and Oliver’s exclamations and objections. He was a horrible, _horrible_ person. He had known what was going on, but had kept his mouth shut. Whether it had been through embarrassment or something else – that Percy absolutely refused to examine at that point in time – he had allowed this to happen to someone he considered a friend. Guilt washed through him, overpowering everything else that had been fighting to be felt since his eyes had dropped to Oliver’s crotch for the first time that day.

He’d never been so thankful that he had inherited his father’s long legs as he was now. Stretching them, he moved quickly away from the party; away from the embarrassment that he had caused not only himself, but Oliver as well. He didn’t stop until he was certain that he had put enough space between himself and everyone else. Leaning back against a large tree, he placed his hands over his face, feeling the heat of his mortification radiating out through them. His heartrate was just beginning to calm down when the snap of a twig grabbed his attention. Pushing off the tree, he stumbled a little before turning.

“Whoa, steady there.” One of Oliver’s strong hands grasped Percy’s arm, holding him still. “You ran off pretty quickly there, Perce.”

Percy’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. He swallowed and closed his eyes.

“I apologise, Oliver.” He knew his tone was stiff – formal, even – but this was the way Percy knew how to deal with life. “I, uh…”

“Got an eyeful?”

Percy’s eyes snapped open at the sound of the humour in Oliver’s voice. They dropped immediately to his crotch. _Belt_ , damn it; to his _belt_. A deep chuckle grabbed Percy’s attention.

“I…”

He didn’t get much further before Oliver’s lips were on his. The kiss was forceful; rough. Taken by surprise, Percy didn’t react at first, prompting Oliver to bite his bottom lip.

“Ow!”

“I saw you watching me, Perce. I’ve known that you watch me for years now.”

Percy’s eyes widened as shock rushed through him. There was such determination – passion, even – on Oliver’s face that it took his breath away. Licking his lips, he let out a soft noise that may have been the start of a word, but sounded more to him like a squeak.

“I’m sorry–”

“Percy,” Oliver interrupted. “I’m not objecting.”

With that, their lips connected again. This time, Percy reacted. His hands flew straight down to the belt that had been tormenting him the entire day. He ran his fingers over the stiff, body-warmed leather until they hit the solid metal of the buckle. Oliver stepped forward, pressing Percy up against the tree behind him as he fumbled with the buckle. For something that had apparently come apart on its own, it was certainly doing its job well now. He grunted in frustration as his fingers slipped on the leather.

“Bloody thing.”

“Like this.”

Oliver’s hands moved from where they had been gripping Percy’s hips to guide his through pulling the post from the hole of the belt. The leather slid smoothly between Percy’s fingers once the buckle was undone. He found himself rather impatient now that the belt was out of his way. He made quick work of the fly of Oliver’s jeans, his heartrate increasing when he felt Oliver doing the same with his. A mumbled charm gave Percy a handful of lube as Oliver drew him out of his own jeans.

“Perce…”

Oliver didn’t continue, as Percy grasped his half-hard cock and began to stroke. There was no need to treat himself to the same pleasure as, now that he could admit it to himself, this was something that he had been wanting – _craving_ – for years now. The sensation of Oliver’s cock hardening in his hand was more than enough to bring Percy to his full length. Leaning back against the tree again, he wrapped his free arm around Oliver’s shoulders, holding him in place against him so he could circle both of their cocks in his hand.

 

“ _Christ_ , Perce…” One of Oliver’s hands clenched on Percy’s hip, digging his nails in sharply. The other moved over Percy’s hand, moving in time with him. “Mmmnn, like that…”

Oliver’s hand was rough with callouses from his years of Quidditch, but Percy found that it only added to the sensations flowing through him. He quickened his pace when Oliver leant forward and recaptured his lips in a bruising kiss. Their teeth and tongues clashed, the only sounds around them those of their harsh breathing and occasional moan.

Percy lost his rhythm when Oliver’s hips jerked in his hand. Oliver kept it up, though, forcing Percy’s hand back into motion. The constant motion over his cock combined with the fact that this was _Oliver_ was sending Percy’s head swimming with lust. Tightening his grip on Oliver’s shoulders, he huffed out a deep groan.

“Ollie, I…”

“Not yet, Perce, hold on… Hold on…”

Thrusting his hips into their hands, Oliver increased the friction, causing Percy to squeeze his eyes shut tight. His mouth opened as he panted, trying to hold on as instructed.

“O – Oliver…” Percy’s stomach muscles clenched with the effort he was exerting to hold back his orgasm. He shook his head. “Can’t…”

After a few more hurried thrusts – from both of them – Oliver groaned. “Now.”

Percy thrust his hips deliberately as Oliver’s cock spasmed in his hand. Hot liquid covered his hand and stomach as Oliver panted through his orgasm. Percy followed a second later, waves of pleasure washing through his entire body as he allowed himself the release he desperately needed. They sank to the ground together in a sticky mess.

“That… that…”

Oliver gave up trying to speak when all he could manage was the one word. Percy grinned as he reached out to grasp the belt that lay completely undone on Oliver’s hips. He raised the buckle slightly and waved it.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see Puddlemere lose a fight.”

Oliver’s responding chuckle sent warmth through Percy’s chest. A cleansing charm followed swiftly behind, before Oliver rolled onto his side so he was facing him. His fingers joined Percy’s on the buckle of the belt, rubbing slowly over them.

“Play your cards right and they’ll be losing a lot more often from now on.”


End file.
